Reason To Exist
by C'est Elise
Summary: What exactly was Gaara thinking when he stepped into Rock Lee's room that day? What else could've happened? Oneshot.


AN: I got the inspiration for this when I read the chapter entitled 'Reason to Exist', heh, and I happened to notice that the vase falls over, and in the next picture it's upright again… that, and the fact that I love Gaara and I'm always brainstorming him…

My first posted one-shot! -sniff-… please review, I need help, I'm forever unsatisfied with myself… I'll take requests, I need inspiration! And, I think, I might have a second part to this, but I don't know… oh and... my first step into the Naruto Fanfic World! So- yeah!

.. and... the second part is kind of graphic... (okay, it's like, hardcore yaoi sex, but, you know, i'm trying to be subtle..) so... yeah. And I have two pairings to work with. So maybe even two chapters. (two outcomes, kind of)

**Reason to Exist**

* * *

The door of the hospital room slid open. Sabaku no Gaara stepped forward. 

The tucked bed sheets, warm, dark atmosphere, and the drawn curtains were all the work of Gai, who had undoubtedly been worrying over his favorite pupil since the tournament. Lee's carefully cleaned, combed hair and fresh bandages were the work of both anonymous nurses and his teammates, who had all been understandably unsettled by his foolish attempts at training earlier that day.

But the daffodil- the single, cut flower on the ninja's bedside table- was what gave Gaara a headache. The simple expression of love brought a painful, cold burn to the area right behind his eyes.

Gaara swung a hand to his head, wincing at the increasing sensation. He waited for the burning to stop (as it usually wore off after the initial shock,) but when the image of Gai-Sensei flashed before his eyes, he doubled over, losing his breath.

The simple gesture, the look that Gai had given Gaara at the end of the battle, spoke volumes about what he felt for the boy. Gaara had refused allowing himself to think at all about the possible aspects of their relationship; the memory alone made his stomach churn.

_(with what? jealousy?)  
_  
_(never)  
_  
_(admit it)  
_  
Gaara's fingers dug into his hair, clenching in an attempt to distract himself from the voices echoing behind his eyes.

_(admit it) _

(never)

(he's what you'll never be)

_(damn right-) _

(i only mean-)

(I'll never be that-)

(that he is-)

(weak)

(loved)

Gaara's grip loosened, and he looked up at the boy, unable (or unwilling) to stop the sensation running through his fingers, the thoughts running through his mind. The boy; an example of love, love from others, and example of ignorance, of weakness, and example of the complete imbalance, the unfairness of _everything_...

Gaara stepped forward, holding a hand over Lee. Closing his eyes, he felt the power run through him, the hate, the cold familiarity of everything Gaara knew. Standing over the soon-to-be-dead ninja... even when he was alone in the room, the love others felt for him was still tangible.

Gaara heard the chink of the glass vase falling from the table, onto the open window sill.

His eyes shot open.

The flowers sat on the table, the same as they had ever been.

Gaara shuddered, swallowing, willing the burning, red hate to push him further. He watched, fascinated, as sand began to come together on Lee's jaw line, growing, gaining an inch with every second that passed; at any moment, it would cover him completely, choking him, ending him. Gaara's breathing hastened.

_(get rid of it) _

(i am)

He stopped. His body froze, without explanation. Gaara's eyes widened, and he could only flinch as Uzumaki's fist came flying. Pain exploded in his jaw as someone in the room cried out.

"What are you doing here, you bastard?" Naruto stood, sleeping attire and spiky hair just as anyone would've pictured.

Gaara rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, wincing he felt grains of his thin barrier fall, leaving a small crack below his eye.

They demanded; or, more accurately, _Naruto_ demanded. He demanded to know what Gaara had been doing, why; he demanded to know why Gaara did what he did, why he hated, why he killed, why he existed. He demanded Gaara pour out his heart, his soul, or lack thereof.

So he did.

His childhood, his reasons, his actions, his feelings; all of the tainted, sacrilegious poison that had cultivated in his heart, throughout his life; all of this, he poured into the room. All for Uzumaki. His parents, the monster, the assassinations that had changed his view on life. All of it; everything Gaara could bring himself to remember.

All the time, he watched Naruto, waiting for the repulsion; the distant, basic disgust that any normal person would experience. He knew, when he saw it, that he would be able to take care of both of them later, without thought. It always made things easier.

It never came.

Instead, something unnerving, something Gaara was definitely not used to seeing, flashed across Uzumaki's face. Understanding?

No. That wasn't possible.

Never, no one. Never.

"Now..." Gaara breathed, opening his mind and allowing the more sensible, sadistic side of him to take hold. "Let me feel it..."

"That's enough!"

Gaara choked. The pain behind his eyes returned, seven fold. He walked to the door, ignoring the obvious stares.

He turned in the doorway, narrowing his eyes, purposefully not looking at Gai.

"I'll get you one day, Uzumaki." he said. "Definitely."

* * *

REVIEW ME AND LEAVE YOUR IM… O.O… YES, I'll message you if you leave your user. I loveth talking to random people. It's not like I have anyone to talk to here… :P 


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